Blade Trench Coat Novels & Stories

He shrugged it on and headed towards the front door. Meredith followed him and put her same wrap coat from the previous day on as Brayden put a scarf around his neck and zipped up a Brunello Cucinelli wool car coat. It had silver snaps and large square pockets and a stand up collar. As Meredith pulled her hands into a pair of sleek black leather gloves Brayden loosely wrapped a black cashmere scarf around her neck. He grabbed something from the side table as Meredith headed to the elevator with Brayden not too far behind her.

The man was nothing if not punctual when it came to getting what he wanted. Alexander stepped out, looking criminally handsome in dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. His eyes raked over me, lingering on the coat. "The trench coat is an interesting choice," he raised one eyebrow. "Though not necessary." I pulled it tighter around me. "We're in public, Mr. Knight. I'd rather not give the entire neighborhood a show." His lips quirked up in amusement. "Fair enough. I appreciate your modesty. For now."

she whispered to the empty, 3 AM studio, her pencil snapping from the pressure. She took the "armor" of her first, hand-sewn coat, and she weaponized it. She found a black, Japanese wool so dense it was like a solid object. She bonded it with horsehair canvas, a technique from medieval tailoring. She built a coat. The shoulders were not just sharp; they were a threat. They were wings, blades, a statement of pure, unadulterated defiance. The collar didn't just stand; it encased the neck, a fortress of its own.

Ten minutes later, I stood before the full-length mirror in my study, adjusting the high collar of my tailored black coat. I didn't dress like a corporate CEO tonight. I dressed like the warlord I had been raised to be. The coat was cut from heavy, matte-black wool, lined with dark red silk, and reinforced at the shoulders with dragon-hide leather that resisted silver blades. A high, structured collar framed my jaw, contrasting sharply with the silver-grey hair I had combed back tightly from my face. I wore tailored dark trousers, heavy leather riding boots that clicked loudly against the hardwood floor, and a single silver signet ring—the seal of the Eastern Line—on my right thumb.

"He picked out the blue wool at Brick Lane without being told what to look for." Ruth was quiet. "Can I see the coat," she said. Elena stood up. Put it on. Stood in Ruth's small flat in the lamp circle with the coat on, the Paris version of it, the Brick Lane wool made into the thing it had been heading toward since Viktor picked it off the stall. Ruth looked at it for a long time. "Elena," she said. "Yes." "That's one of the best things I've ever seen." Elena looked down at the coat.

“Never lose all hope. Perhaps a prolonged drinking binge will still cause you to pass away in debtor’s prison. Cuthbert saw the tear in the front of Julian’s black greatcoat as he was swinging him around to have him facing the right way. Knowing that his friend was far more particular about his clothing than he was about his countless matters of the heart, he inquired, “What’s this?” He ran his fingers across the delicately woven wool as he considered the jagged rip. The threads that rimmed its edge were twisted and blackened, almost as if they had been burnt, and it was well over an inch broad. When Julian grabbed his hand with a soft yet firm grip, he had already begun to work one finger t

A man dressed in black walked along the road, his steps unhurried and scanty. He seemed to be a little more afraid of the cold than normal people, the temperature of this day was not really too low, but he had already put on a black turtleneck sweater, dark wide trench coat, the trench coat was very long, appearing to be thin and slender, with a jagged sense of indifference. Indifferent men are always evocative, and there are a few young women on the side of the road quietly surveying, hesitating to go forward to ask for contact information.

"We're not a married couple." Even though he had anticipated her words, Elijah still felt a pang of disappointment. Left with no other option, Winter picked out the priciest trench coat in the store and asked Elijah to try it on in the fitting room. Outside the boutique, Blake—the CEO of Thorne Group—was touring StarWorld Mall with a group of senior executives. As they neared the store entrance, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. The line of people behind him almost toppled over like a set of dominoes.

The Morning Coat is a black single-breasted coat with a single-button closure and a peaked lapel, which were beautifully decorated with golden embroidery. From his outfit and aura, you could tell that he is of noble lineage. The moment he stepped forward and my eyes locked on him, I felt strangely unsettled. There was something about him that bugs me to beware of him. To stay far away from him. When he was just a few steps away from us, I unconsciously took a step back away from him, which had him stopping in his track. A surprise and something else flashed across his face, and before I could tell what it was, he had replaced it with a smile. Even the smile got me dreading what’s behind it.

BLADE Chapter One Emiliana's POV At the moment, the only thing on my mind was how to get out of this tight, exposing, goddamn wedding dress. The driver pulled over at a huge mansion. The bodyguards alighted and opened the car door for us. I stepped down and turned back, expecting my husband to step out of the car but he stepped out from the other side and slammed the door shut. I was startled by his action. Then he began to walk inside without waiting for me.